14 AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 



A CHRISTMAS RAMBLE. 



(unsigned.) 



I passed the Christmas holidays at my home at Greenport, Long Island, 

 and I took the time on Christmas morning to once more wander over the 

 fields and through the woods, which were so familiar to me a few years ago. 

 The weather was threatening rain, hut I did not wish to miss the trip, so I 

 prepared for wet weather, and started about 8:30 a. m., with note book and 

 field glass. The day was hardly an ideal one for seeing birds, but the fol- 

 lowing will show that I was not entirely unsuccessful. 



I had gone but a short distance, after leaving the house, when from above 

 me came the "pick, pick, pick," of a Woodpecker. Looking up, I discovered 

 two hairy woodpeckers on an upper limb. Certainly this was a good begin- 

 ning. Soon after I passed by a long hedge of cedar trees I heard the familiar 

 notes of that fluffy little bunch of feathers, the Chickadee. There were some 

 ten or twelve of them, all having a great time among the branches. 



As I walked out into the open country road, a number of hoarse "caw 

 caws," told me that all the crows were not dead yet, for across the field were 

 a number of them in a patch of woods. Here I left the road, and passing 

 through the woods amid loud protests from the above mentioned crows, I 

 came out upon the high bluff which extends all along the southern shores 

 of Long Island Sound. I had not seen the Sound for some time, so I stop- 

 ped to watch the waves roll up and break into foam on the beach. While I 

 stood there a flock of Black Ducks went by, and after looking more closely 

 I found several other flocks of both Old Squaw and Black Ducks, some float- 

 ing on the water and others flying along just above the waves. Besides the 

 ducks there were a number of Herring Gulls circling about. 



A fine mist had now commenced to blow in from the northwest, so I de- 

 cided to move. I followed the path of the life-saving patrol along the bluff 

 for about two miles. In many places the path led me through sumac and 

 bav bushes. In one of these spots were a number of Song Sparrows, evident- 

 ly determined to stick it out all winter. They were so quiet that I hardly 

 recognized them for the vivacious little songsters of spring and early sum- 

 mer. Numerous Chickadees, also, were there, either feeding on the bay ber- 

 ries or nervously hopping from branch to branch, while all along the bluff 

 I heard the cheerful twitter of numerous Yellow-rumped Warhlers. These 

 last named birds, although their usual winter home is much farther south, 

 are always to be found along the sound in winter and, in fact, are quite com- 

 mon around Greenport at that season. They seem to enjoy the cold weather 

 for I have seen them often when the thermometer was blow zero, and the zero 

 weather in the damp atmosphere of Eastern Long Island is as cold as 

 twenty degrees inland. 



